


Demotion

by orphan_account



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Also Josh yells at the TV, And he says Ra instead of God, Beth is like meh, Climbing Class, Hannah cries, Josh forgot his name, Josh snorts when he laughs, M/M, My chapter names are really shitty, Plus he's really cute too, Santa is a burglar, Spiders, The view says so, These two are dorks, This isn't an episode of Goosebumps, but he's still josh, cheesy christmas, chris is scared of bread, emily complains, gross sweaters, he's a dork, josh is a mummy, monster au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-24 06:13:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4908424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris feels more alone than he ever could be after Sam swears off from too much contact and most of his other friends seem distant. Upon finding that his relative left him many of his old things, he finds a certain dead pharaoh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Death of the Pharaoh

**Author's Note:**

> See the end for MOAR notes

It was only the hardest days that sun seemed to beat down twice as hard this time around, people gathered around the unmoving body. His heartbeat faint, fading into nothing. Eyes the size of silver platters at the red substance leaking from the boy’s chest. The stabs were far too large and he’d already lost too much blood to be saved in anyway… Not that many people actually lived from those wounds these days. Something larger than minor cuts could get you killed. Medical limitation was another complaint these days.. 

A smaller girl squeaked, pushing her way through the crowd, almost identical sister being tugged along. The other had nothing to say. No tears could be forced. She wasn't like her sister in that way. Identical on the outside, much different on the inside.

People did nothing except mutter the same dull words, “the pharaoh is dead”, at least those words stuck the most. Among the gathering were a few mad men that shouted of the gods demanding him dead or even pity. Both girls had no words. Each looked away from the sight of their brother bleeding out before them. How could they watch? They were too small and weak to have stopped them. Father wasn’t fast enough and mother wasn’t allowed to speak up.

Unfortunately the next few months grew to become an utter hell. The death only translated into meaning the God’s were angry. Crops grew slower and died easily, making harvest the least they’ve ever had. People grew sick either from food poisoning, insects, or bad luck. The days became hotter to no end, rain becoming a gift. More and more, the people lost trust in their family. They wouldn’t listen, only hear what they wanted to hear. 

With the morning casted to an already grim outlook, both girls were to get up. Today would be the last they would see their brother. Although it will not be the same as before. They won't hear the happy laugh, see the sweet smile, feel the true joy he had. Life much rather felt black and white. The color was drained from their very eyes. Dull, drab, sad. Their eyes scan the golden sarcophagus, hiding the bandaged body. He belonged to the God’s now. It was their turn to help him into the afterlife. Hopefully one where he is happy and doesn’t tell mother of the times that he sees things that aren’t real. No one knew how to help him now. Unless you were a slave buried with him to help once they passed, then you had no business trying.

Once the tomb was sealed, one of the girls stared. Her hands shook, turning away to turn attention away. In reality, all eyes were on her. It was clear that she was to cry. No one could work up tears in the moment. Even their brother was at peace with death. He never seemed to think it’d happen so soon. There always seemed to be a smile on his face when he talked to others.

No one would have known that this boy was expected to walk the living once more, not anywhere near an afterlife they had dreamed.


	2. Maze Of Feet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the tomb is raided and most objects are sold on the black market, Chris' diseased uncle acquires our mummy. He is soon to find that the other doesn't even know his own name.

Feet trudged through the tombs, searching for the said treasures. A certain female brushed black locks out of her brown eyes, making an audible complaint. Most were surprised to hear her quieter. Going down here seemed to be a bad idea in the first place, not like she was one to blab on and on about curses. All those things seemed flat out child’s play… Just… A part of her wasn’t looking forward to being in the same room as some guy who died. In front of her, a girl went on and on about how exciting this was. “No one’s found a place like this in hundreds of years!” She gushed, constantly shoving her nose into her journal to write notes. The jet black haired female grunted, lips curling into a clear frown. She wasn’t… Thrilled to be around this girl… She was annoying and easy to scare. Some people have to grow up, not sit around writing theories in their room like children or teens in puberty.

She tugged a lantern closer, looking over at as a spider skittered past. Another followed it, ignoring the group as they danced around the maze of feet. She glanced back down at her boots, mumbling a few choice words. Another reason she hated it down here. The tombs were damp with the musk of… “Death.” She finished her thought, only receiving a few glances from the group. Her mother’s lips curled back into a frown, “Honey-”

“No I don’t want to talk.” She answered quickly, picking up her pace, boots clicking along the bricks. Perhaps her mother could have mentioned that their money came from illegal ways. Every animal skin coat, italian boot, every hundred dollar tube of lipstick. Only the best… Not like these things… The people who built these tombs must’ve worn pounds of gold and jewels…

Perhaps a modern line of these cloths would sell much better than having this sit around in museums. These objects would be sold on the black market. Whom ever wants to buy a teen’s thousand year old corpse beats her, but she wasn’t going to mention it anymore than she must.

Chris didn’t have the most exciting life. He had classes during his days and the most company was hours on Netflix. Sure, Sam called occasionally, asking how things seemed to be these days. It was never the most thrilling chat... The blonde was always more of a loner. He was awkwardly short until a growth spurt made him awkwardly tall. He was never the buff sports type like Matt or Mike. Of course he seemed to be the only single guy in his group. Mike would mention some girl named Jess, Matt would bring up someone, Sam would mention who she thought was cute. He couldn't recall a time to have bragging rights. He's thought of the cute girl in one of his classes though, although she doesn't seem to pay much attention to him, Chris' found his fingers fiddling with the keys to the storage unit, trying to open the lock. He'd already driven an hour he get here, no point in quieting now.

After a few minutes of fiddling like the idiot he is, he was able to pull the unit open. It was almost like that show on TV, except instead of him bidding on something, his uncle died and happened to leave him all his shit. Great. The blonde sighed, running a few fingers through his hair in frustration. Large brown cardboard boxes littered the room. He grumbled, trying to access where he should start... If he even should start somewhere. His uncle was known to horde all sort of items. None of it was normal.

He tensed up at the sounds of a groan from the pile. "I-...Hello?" He asked, fingers crossing that no one answered him. Slowly he pushed the boxes aside, hoping for an opening that'd fit his size. He wasn't too large, taller than most of his friends though. Once he had an opening, he slipped through with ease. The blonde tensed once he met eyes with the golden case. "Holy shit..." He whispered, voice barely audible. He slid a finger slowly down the case, a viable coat of dust leftover. No one has touched this in... Years... He definitely doesn't belong here. Chris could almost hear the case calling to him as he slowly slipped his fingers to the lock. Once he spotted an old molding brick from outside, he was able to open the coffin. The musk of the bandages and spices hit him, causing him to stumble back, eyes wide. "I-uh-..." Words were a stumbling mess. Who was he talking to? This... Guy was clearly dead. What does he? Does he call someone? Does he leave it and pretend that this all never happened?

Chris felt his breath hitch in his thought, bright eyes wide. "Oh-oh-oh-I-" He wasn't sure what to say, more or less stumbling over what to say. This guy was dead after all! He was at a loss, trying to pick out why (or how) his uncle would have or gotten this male. Sure the guy was pretty weird but you don't just end up with a dead Egyptian in your possession! Did no one notice that he had this?! The blonde snapped up from his thoughts at another small groan. No, no, no, no, no! This is not an episode of Scooby Doo or goosebumps! He tried backing away, feet almost seemingly stuck in one place. He stared at the lifeless raise an arm into the air slowly, noises more clear that they were for him. This, this, couldn't be real! He was being punked, he was being punked! "Please be a prank." Chris whispered, watching the figure sit up. Half of him expected his dead uncle to jump out and yell: "Gotcha ya bastard, I didn't die!

This figure has certainly more than confused as to what awoke him. Was his death just a nightmare? He's had a few ones like it. Why was it so dark? His hopes arose once he heard the sounds of another. Surely they hadn't forgotten their pharaoh! Someone must be here for him! He knew that they must be! He reached back, searching for the start of the wrapping. Once it was found, he begun to pull the wearied down bandages off to reveal a dark brown eye. He didn't stop here, ignoring Chris as he pulled off enough to show his entire face. His features showed to be tan golden skin, almost fully black hair, and of course a brilliant smile. Just the luck of genetics.

The Egyptian blinked, eyes adjusting to the sudden light. "Oh, hello." He mumbled once Chris came to his vision. His voice was gentle, clearly showing a stern side as well. The English was choppy and Josh wasn't sure where he'd picked it up. Seemed to be an adaptation almost.

He couldn't find his voice, words got coming out. This had to be a joke. This mummy was alive and seemed to look fresh out of his twenty's. That flat out wasn't possible! "I... Are-are you real?" It came out in a murmur, close to the squeak of a kitten.

"Hm?" The brunette made an audible noise of bewilderment. He was not concentrating on the other in the room at the moment. More of pondering what happened. Not much was coming to mind, and in no way was it crystal clear. There was a family coming to mind. Parents were obvious, perhaps sisters too. Label of some sort? In fact, why wasn't he recalling his own name? "You, befuddled man, my title. What does it happen to be?" He extended his pointer towards the other, order stern.

"Title?..." Chris furrowed a brow, clicking to what he meant. Name! Name! He was looking for a name! Why would Chris know this gent's name? He was at a loss for how this event was accruing in the first place. "I don't know what your name is... I'm Chris."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, second chapter took me all week. Sorry this was so awful. It's longer though.


	3. Chris Is Scared Of Bread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upon a second of thought, Chris takes home the pharaoh. Once he realizes that giving the other a name would help on this case, Josh comes to mind. Of course his little cash leads to problems to having the other here.. Not like he can make the brunette sleep on the floor. Then Chris jumps because the toaster popped.

The blonde hadn't understood why exactly he took the Egyptian male home. Perhaps it was just a human instinct to care for the smaller, clueless, people. It almost seemed like a bad prank, something straight from MTV. He didn't listen to the little voice in the back of his head, you know the one. The one that explains that you only have one bedroom in your apartment, the one that says if all you've eaten for the past week is Ramen noodles then how are you going to feed a second person? Regardless, he'd taken the other home.

He'd swung open the door, ushering the other inside. One important question on his mind: _What do I do with him?_

Of course there were many answers to that but none of them seemed right. In fact, now that he recalls it, they didn't even discus a name for this pharaoh.

It'd seemed like a bad movie in the end. The other told all that he could remember, of course a name was not one of those topics. Chris had been full of questions, the story turning into a bad interrogation. How'd you die? What was it like? Are you upset about dying... So soon. Of course once he noticed the hint of hurt flash on the other's face, he shut his trap.

"Chris, owner of this.. Limited palace. May I be informed as to why I am alive?" The other asked, following Chris with about two inches of space between them.

Chris paused, chewing on his lip as responses came to mind. None of them sounded any bit reasonable. "I'm not sure.. How about we worry about what I can call you for now." He suggested, using it to move on from said question.

"Oh. Yes, we may discus that." He replied, taking the bait.

"Names... How about something easy..." The male scanned the room, thinking of any sort of name that he could work with.

His eyes picked out an old letter, quickly swiping it off the table. He took a moment to scan over the document, another bill that he's been avoiding paying, picking up a name; Josh.

That's good... Easy to remember, not too long, and rolled off the tongue. This would only be tempory after all, no point in the longest name he could think of. Plus if they wanted to be fancy, he could call him Joshua. Just like when your mother is angry and uses your full name.

"How about Josh?" He suggested.

The other pondered over it, taking a moment before speaking up. "What does it mean?"

"Nothing really, It's just easy to remember. I thought he could use this until you remember your real name." He replied, tossing the letter back onto the table.

"Okay.. Sure." The male, now known as Josh, nodded and fiddled with the crumbling bandages wrapped around his torso.

"Would you like something else to... Wear?" Chris recommended.

Josh paused, clearly uneasy to change out of the wrapping. "I would not want to-"

"It's not a bother. You can borrow a hoodie and pants until we find something else. Don't worry about it." He flashed a smile, hoping for one in return.

"I suppose..." The brunette mimicked the smile.

* * *

The week had felt longer than it should. Classes dragged on longer than they used to, every moment giving Chris time to dwell on the well being of Josh. _Is he okay? Did I teach him to use the toaster correctly? I looked ridiculous this morning when I tried._

Each and every day he returned to the brunette clearly okay. He'd explain every detail of his day as the other requested. "And you're sure no one bothered you?" Chris would constantly ask.

Josh would give the same nod and go back on to talking about all the weird showings on. Chris didn't exactly know how to describe a TV in the right sense... The brunette liked to pretend that the gods gave it as a gift, it'd just be rude to break his heart like that. It was actually quite... Cute, in the sense of a kitten sneezing cute, the way Josh liked to explain how things worked. Not that he wasn't intelligent, but people from his time only dreamed of these things.

Chris noticed that Josh has started to take a liking to watching horror movies on Netflix. He'd constantly talk about the ones that he's seen. Usually he didn't get the full plot, but Josh did enjoy yelling at the television. "Chris, why don't they simply run?!" He'd shout, gesturing at the television.

The blonde would chuckle and shrug, "Dunno bro, would you?"

"Of course! Why would I want the masked man to do that to me?" He pointed back to the TV. The screen flashed a blonde girl, screaming as she tripped on something. Classic cliché.

"No, I'd hope you wouldn't want that. I like having you around." He replied, busy on stirring the creamer into his fresh caffeine boost. "While I'm over here, do you want something for breakfast?"

"Yes, I would like your toasted 'bread'." He used his fingers to create quotation marks. Chris was proud that he taught Josh that yesterday as well.

He hid his smile and nodded, "With butter?"

Josh nodded.

Chris opened the pantry, pulling out a simple loaf of bread and slipped it into the toaster. The blonde turned around back to watch Egyptian press his face into one of the throw pillows and make a small whine. He pulled it away and glanced back at Chris, "For the love of Ra-"

The toast quickly popped, startling the other. He jumped and quickly set his cup down to avoid any spills.

He glanced at Josh supporting a rather smug look. "Do not say it-"

"Chris is afraid of bread!" Josh shouted, starting to giggle.

"I'm not-" He stopped, watching the other burst into laughs. No point in arguing... This was equally as great.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks for reading the next chapter! I planned this to mostly be fluff in this chapter. The next one will most likely be more dialog and plenty of plot. I've got school tomorrow so I can draft something there. I promise something will be posted this week. Thank you for all the reads!


	4. Now My Nose Is Itchy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris finds some sort of winter clothes for his undead pharaoh due to the holidays coming up. Since Chris get's time off class for the holidays, he definitely wants to spend this time with Josh.. Maybe even teach him a little bit about the cheesy American Christmas, no matter how much it bugged him that CVS started Christmas music midway through October.

The blonde felt himself crack a small smile as he slid the jacket onto the other. He’d been saving scraps of cash to pay for a few new shirts and jeans. They’d been relying on Josh wearing his older clothes. That wasn’t turning out well due to two reasons: Josh was small and winter was approaching. It’s not like they lived in an area that was warm all year, Chicago was capable of getting chilly. Buying him a jacket wasn’t a bad idea. “Is this really necessary?” Josh asked, peeking a glance at Chris.

Chris nodded and looked down at Josh, small hum of approval coming from his pursed lips. “Yeah. It get’s pretty cold around here and I don’t think that my old shirts are going to do much…” He trailed off and slowly leaned forward. He took his index finger and gently tapped the other’s nose. “Boop." It'd been an old thing that he hasn't had the chance to do lately.

What?... What was that? Was it good? Was it bad? Josh raised a brow slowly, “What did you?...” He asked, not noticing how he was scrunching up his nose. “Now my nose is itchy.” The other whispered, extending his bottom lip.

“Now, don’t look at me with that face.” Chris replied, making small _tsk_ and waving his pointer finger. “Where’d you learn that?” He asked. "Perhaps I let you watch too much TV."

The pharaoh crossed his arms, slipping his tongue out. “Maybe if you were around more often, I wouldn’t watch so much.”

Oh. This is what this was about. He didn’t mean… He didn’t mean to neglect Josh, it was more of a matter of… Balancing class, social life, and work. Adding another person to this list wasn’t making things any easier. Not at all.

Back when he was younger, he used to take care of his mother cats… The only problem with that is the fact that he developed allergies to their shedding when he grew older. Taking care of a whole other person was not the step up that he was looking for. Plus Josh seemed to be adjusting to living here. His english was improving to more modern language, not to mention he’s been learning quite a bit. “Hey… Don’t worry, I promise that we can hang soon. Break is coming up, they let me have time off class for holiday.”

The brunette tilted his head to the side once more, showing more confusion. “Holiday? Do you mean what people talk about with the fat man in the red suit?” He questioned. “Because I don’t feel comfortable with him sneaking in our house.”

Laughs were quick to bubble up, trying to hold back laughing, he covered his mouth. “J-Josh!” He choked out, pounding his fist on the marble countertop. “That’s a thing they tell children to be good!”

“Well, the women on ‘The View’, liked going on about it.” Josh argued, once more using his index and middle finger to create air quotes. He’ll never stop using those now that he learned those huh.

“They must’ve been joking around you dork.” Chris leaned back once more on the counter, slipping off his glasses and using his sweater to clean them. “And no, a fat man won’t be breaking into the house. Holiday break means that I have a few weeks to spend time with you. Most of my family is busy around this time and I haven’t heard from Sam, that means it’ll just be us.” He explained, cracking a cheesy smile once more.

“That means I’ll finally have a friend?” He asked, eyes flashing signs of hope. Thank whomever is up there that Chris was telling the truth.

“Yeah. Don’t phrase it like that, I’m still your friend.” The blonde turned to the drawer, starting to fiddle with the silverware in it. “I know I’m not always around… But I swear that I’m trying.” He wasn't lying either. He truly did enjoy being around Josh. It was like having a best friend in a weird sense. Not that the other was coming out of his shell, Josh was always messing around with him, joking, laughing even. Chris happened to love every moment of this. "Either way, I promise you and me will have the most classic cheesy Christmas." He replied, slipping an arm around the other's shoulders.

"What do you mean by that?" The brunette asked him wearily, taking a peek at his friend.

Chris felt a soft chuckle escape his lips, using his free hand to make a half circle motion. "Christmas cookies, a tree that shreds pine needles, itchy sweaters galore Joshy boy!"

"Sounds... Like a blast?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this long delayed chapter. School has been long so I've been putting this off. Sorry that I keep ending these chapters on weird dialog. Meh. I know I'm horrible.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry you even read this. It's really bad and I'm a horrible writer. Done. :P


End file.
